


Schooling

by TUNiU



Series: One of His Sons [3]
Category: Red Dwarf (UK TV)
Genre: speedie lister - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:42:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TUNiU/pseuds/TUNiU
Summary: In this story: Dave Lister takes Arnold to his first day of school. Part of a series where a swirly thing deposited Dave Lister on the moon Io back in time to raise a child Arnold Rimmer. And he does a far better job than Rimmer's canonical parents ever did.
Series: One of His Sons [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740547
Kudos: 8





	Schooling

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place while Arnold and Dave are still living on Io.

Arnold’s first day of school started well. The Io weather service provided an artificial grey overcast sky. It was bleak, with the synthetic smell of the promise of rain; nevermind that the newscaster had promised no actual rain would come from the sky-dome pipes. 

Dave walked Arnold to the bus stop, to wait for the school bus. He wasn’t the only parent to do so. There were some mums and dads standing around their respective sons and daughters. 

The others all had a working-class look about them. This was not a school for the affluent Ionian child. No this was the school for the children of the affluent Ionian’s butlers and mechanics. The childrens’ uniforms weren’t done up as spiffy as they could have been. There were several loose ties, unbuttoned cardigans, and rumpled jackets. Arnold fit right in. His uniform had come straight from the shipping box to the boy with no stop for laundry in between. 

The hover bus came trundling up the street. Arnold looked up at Dave and said, “I won’t disappoint you, dad.”

Dave ruffled his hair. “You could never disappoint me,” he said. “Just do your best and don’t take no smeg from no one.”

“Yes, dad.”

The bus creaked to a stop. The hover lifts powered down and the bus clanked to the asphalt. The doors opened, revealing a mechanoid driver in a jaunty blue uniform. It made Dave think the mech would look better selling washing machines than driving a bus.

Arnold looked up at Dave uncertainly as the other kids all clamoured into the vehicle. “What if I fail?” he asked tremulously.

Dave patted his shoulder, “it’s only your first day, chin up. You’ll be home before you know it. Now,” here Dave knelt in front of Arnold, adjusting his bag strap and collar needlessly. “do you want me here when you get back?”

Arnold shook his head, ashamed.

“You sure?”

“You have work to do, I’ll be fine,” Arnold stated.

“Okay then.” Dave stood up and gently guided Arnold towards the bus. The boy climbed up the stairs, walked down the aisle, and sat in a seat by himself.

The bus doors closed. The hover lifts activated and the bus floated off down the street. Dave wasn’t alone in watching the bus as it got further and further away. Once the bus was beyond view, all the parents dispersed.

* * *

Dave puttered around the apartment. He’d gotten through a few maintenance orders in the various other units of the building during the time Arnold had been at school. His boy was due back anytime now and he didn’t want to be out on a work-order when the boy arrived home. He didn’t want Arnold to come back to an empty home. Maybe he should do something special. 

Dave rummaged around in the dirty dishes in the sink and pulled out a saucepot. It looked semi-clean, but he gave it a quick scrub with soap to be sure. The pot went on the stove. Next he opened the cabinet and pulled out a can of alphabetti spaghetti. The can was opened and poured into the pot to simmer gently. Then Dave pulled a package of hot dogs from the refrigerator. This far from Earth, they weren’t real hot dogs, just synthetic meat fortified with vitamins and minerals. But they looked and tasted like hotdogs and that was all that mattered. While the alphabetti spaghetti cooked in the pot, Dave got to work cutting the hot dogs. First, he cut them in half, then he took each half and clipped the bottoms with several slices. The end result was a plate full of meaty squid shapes that got added to the sauce pot.

He gave the pot a stir and lowered the temperature. A ceramic plate went atop the pot to keep the heat in. 

A glance at the clock told Dave that Arnold would be home in a few minutes, just enough time to set the kettle to boil for some teabags and clear off the dining table, a feat quickly accomplished by his arm sweeping everything to the floor. The various electrical parts clattered across the linoleum. Dave kicked them into a pile in front of the couch.

The door opened and Arnold slowly walked in. The boy looked up at Dave, who was smiling at him, then he looked to the stove. Arnold seemed to shrink several inches as he slumped down.

Dave approached him. “What’s wrong?”

“We had an assessment, first thing,” Arnold explained. “The teacher said I need to be in year 4. I didn’t know there would be a test, or I would have studied more.” Arnold stared beyond Dave at the kitchen. “Maybe I can take the test again?”

“Hey, now.” Dave pulled Arnold’s bag off his shoulder, letting it drop to the floor. He led the boy to sit at the table.

The kettle whistled. Dave hurried to shut it off. As the teabags steeped, he portioned out the spaghetti and squids into a couple of mismatched bowls with rebent spoons. He balanced the bowls atop the cups and brought everything over to the table at once.

Arnold watched him place the bowl and cup in front of him. Then he just looked at him, a little lost and sad.

“Eat,” Dave said.

“But I failed,” Arnold told him.

“Being held down a year doesn’t mean you failed, it just means you need more time to learn.”

“But I didn’t pass the test,” Arnold restated his point. “I should have passed.”

“Why?”

“So I could prove I know the material.”

“But you don’t know the material.”

Arnold flinched.

Dave spoke gently, “it’s not a bad thing, being held down a year.”

“But I’ll be older and bigger than everyone around me,” Arnold sniffled.

“That means just you can beat up anyone who gives you smeg.”

Arnold took his spoon and stirred his food. A squid popped up to the surface. He smiled miserably. “You made me alphabetti spaghetti,” he said.

“It’s your favorite, innit?”

He ate a spoonful and another, slowly, miserably.

“Did I ever tell you about the bravest man I ever met,” Dave asked quietly.

Arnold stopped eating and shook his head.

“He was a pilot in the space corp. The best and bravest and most brilliant man who ever lived. He would fly around wherever there was trouble and save the day and get the girl. He never let anything stop him. What a guy! And one day he told me his story. You see, when he was right around your age, he got held down in school. Well, to this day, he considers that his lucky break, because he learned how to be brave in that year. That extra year made him the space hero he was. Who knows what he would have been if his school had just passed him up? Probably a vending machine repair man. You don’t want to be a vending machine repair man, do you?”

Arnold shook his head. “No,” he smiled. “I’m going to art college.”

“That’s right. And Art College is full of people who got held down for a year. Now eat up. And when you’re done we can download the new textbooks you’ll need for year 4.”

* * *

Arnold’s second day of school started the same. Dave took him to the same bus stop, where he met the same parents and the same children. The same bus came hovering by with the same droid driver. Again Dave adjusted Arnold’s clothing and sent him onto the bus.

When the time came for the bus to drop Arnold off back home, Dave was waiting for him at the bus stop. Arnold’s face lit up at the sight of him and he skipped off the bus to join him. 

“You’re here,” Arnold said.

“Course I am,” Dave ruffled Arnold’s curls. “I didn’t want you to have to walk home alone sad again if it didn’t work out.” They began walking towards their apartment building.

“I like this teacher.”

“Oh yeah, are they nice?” Dave asked.

“She helped me with my work.”

“That’s good. Did she give you any homework?”

“A little.”

“Do you wanna save it for after dinner, so you can help me fix Number 7’s broken fabricator?”

“Okay.”

They arrived back at their apartment in time to greet Cathy as she was letting out the dog.

“Afternoon, Cathy,” Dave called to her.

“Afternoon, James,” Cathy replied. 

They entered through the door she still held open. The dog had been dead for 4 years now, but Cathy still held the door open twice a day at the same time everyday to let the nonexistent dog out and back in again. 

Together they raced up all the steps to the top floor. Arnold won on account of being younger and fitter. He dropped his bookbag on his bunk and changed from his school clothes to his grey overalls. By the time Dave finally made it to the front door, Arnold had the tool kit assembled on the table, and was properly clothed for a day of repairing.

“Lookit you,” Dave crooned appreciatively. “All ready to help your father. There is only two things missing.” Dave opened the fridge and retrieved a can of lager and a can of soda. He placed the cans in the side pockets of the tool kit. “Ready.”

“Ready!” Arnold parroted.

Dave kissed the top of Arnold’s curls, “such a great son.” He lead him out of the apartment and towards Number 7, where they spent a wonderful few hours bonding over machinery repairs.

Lister and Rimmer, repairmen once again.


End file.
